


I'm Fili!

by agirlmustwrite



Series: Someday [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Fluff and Angst, Love at First Sight, Multi, but what else is new
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 11:47:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7756723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlmustwrite/pseuds/agirlmustwrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The five times Fili, son of Vili, completely and utterly failed at communicating his feeling towards his One, and the one time where he was give a second chance to.<br/>(A prequel of sorts to my previous story "Someday".)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Fili!

**Author's Note:**

> The prequel to my story "Someday" that no on asked for. Whatever, I just felt like it.  
> Disclaimer: Me? Plagerising? I don't know what your Tolkien about!  
> Ha! Get it? Get it?  
> Please don't arrest me for that. 30% of my humor is dad jokes, I really can't help it! I really don't own this, I'm sorry! :'(

It happened within the dungeons of Mirkwood.

It was sometime between his brother raving about the elf maid- of her eyes of emeralds and hair that shone brighter than all the rubies in the Blue Mountains- and his uncle's dark mumblings of how he missed “his” burglar. Between both of his kin's fits of love driven madness, Fili, Son of Vili, promised himself then and there that their insanity only insured that he would never fall in love. Not in a million years, not for all the gold in Erebor. Never would he be reduced to some bumbling, love struck sap.

 

1.

The thrice cursed Bargeman made them crawl through his toilet.  **His toilet.** Bards would sing of how the Company of Thorin Oakenshield came to Esgaroth through the filth of a man’s  **toilet** . 

Luckily, there was no waste, and when Fili emerged, his braids were only entangled with leaves. His blond mane hung limply around his face as he gasped for his air, bits of hair falling into his mouth as he coughed up the murky water from his lungs.

Soaked he climbed onto the wooden lid, his clothes weighing on him like a dead carcass. He lifted his hair out of his face, before assessing the damage of his braids. He held the pitiful tangled mess in his hands, and sighed. It would be a mess to fix. But he shook his head and dragged his soaked boot-covered feet out of the toilet, and gracelessly fell onto his bottom.

He silently cursed in Khuzdul as his hair fell limply in his face once more, and then heard footing above him. He picked up his head to look up over the railing of the upper floor. He parted his hair down the middle, spitting out a bit of hair, only to have his breath catch in his throat.

Mahala’s Hairy Balls, was she a vision. He must’ve drowned and went to the Halls, for surely she must’ve been an angel. Wispy strands of gold, eyes that rivaled the most precious of silvers, and a face soft and elegant as maiden of legend…She was the most beautiful sight he had seen in all of Middle Earth. 

“Da, why are there dwarves coming out of our toilet?”

And her voice was as soothing as water. He was in serious trouble. How he wanted to speak sonnets of her beauty. To sing ballads of her as his brother did for the elf. But all that spilt out of his mouth was 

“I’m Fili!”

The maiden whipped her head to face him, and he felt himself shudder at being the focus of her gaze. But he felt embarrassment as she looked at him as if he had an extra head.

“Will they bring us luck?” A little one, almost identical to the elder asked, looking up at the enchanting creature inquisitively. He was thankful that her attention was diverted, and he had time to reflect on his utter screw up.

But not for long, as Dwalin hoisted him up and pushed him into the home.

 

2.

She was the bargeman’s daughter. A daughter of man. A daughter of a man who was hell bent on burning holes into his skull with his death glare when ever he so much as looked at her. 

Not that he looked at her. A lot. He was first and foremost concerned with Kili and the company.

But he would steal glances at her. As her blue skirts whirled around the kitchen as she her cook and clean. Many a time an offer to help hung on his tongue, but never escaped his mouth. Instead he would look back at Kili, who was wincing in pain or chatting with the younger sister. 

The younger human seemed entranced by the strangers in her house, her wide eyes shone as Kili told her of their adventures. Fili would occasionally see her eyes glance to his braids and beads, and when she noticed him catching her, she beamed up at him.

“Did you make those?” She asked, obviously awestruck, and Fili found himself smiling.

“Aye, I did.”

“Are you a jeweler?”

He laughed. “No, little one, I’m a silversmith.”

The girl’s eyes brightened, and she asked excitedly, “So you can make silver hair piece?”

He shrugged, “If I wanted to and had the material, I could.”

The girl’s smile widened. “That’s fantastic! My sister’s name day is near Yuletide, and she loves hair pieces! Can you make one? I have a lot of stuff to trade-”

“Tilda, stop bothering our guests!”

Fili felt himself stiffen as the human maiden walked over with a shawl in hand. Her sister began to protest, but was muffled by the shawl being wrapped about her frame.

“No buts, it's rude. Come now, I need help bringing back some vegetables.” 

Fili felt an offer to come along rising up in his throat, but once the girl turned to him, her stormy grey eyes offering sympathetic apologies, it died out.

“Forgive my sister, Sir dwarf. She meant you no offense.”

She was speaking to him again. There was no second chance at a first impression, but he could only attempt to amend. He couldn’t do any worse, surely.

“I-I’m Fili.”

Unless he did the exact same thing.

And he didn’t even have time to feel embarrassed as the sister said, “That’s a funny name! My name is Tilda, and this is Sigrid. My name means ‘Strong Warrior,’ and Sigrid’s mean ‘Beautiful and Wise!’ What does your-.”

“Tilda, that’s enough,” the girl warned, pulling her sister towards the door, before offering an apologetic smile to Fili. “I am so sorry, Master Fili. Good day.”

As the door closed, Fili could only think of how fitting her name was, and how wonderful it was for her to say his. But he was soon brought out of his trance by the Kili, who was grinning at him madly. He scowled, before pushing him off the bench.

 

3.

Damn Thorin. Damn him, for even thinking of leaving Kili. And thrice damn the master for no taking them in. That only left one option, and he had quite mixed feelings about that.

But Bard did not share the sentiment, as he scowled and spoke of how he was done with dwarves. Thankfully, Kili’s pathetic form seemed to break him, and Fili was subjected to the horror of watching helplessly as Kili withered in pain. He yelled at Oin, and felt awful for it, but he was desperate. His brother, his little Kili was dwindling away by the minute. And on top of it, the Mountain had began to shake, and Bard was Mahala knows where. It was all far too overwhelming. He was supposed to be a Prince of Erebor, dammit. Yet he was as helpless as a babe.

Yet a scream rang through his chaotic psyche, and he turned his head towards the door. Suddenly Sigrid ran in, slamming the door behind her. Yet it caught on something, and Fili felt his blood run cold. It was an orc blade.

Suddenly a creature swung the door open, snarling its teeth at them as he rose his blade to the human girl. Fili felt his blood boil as he charged at the orc, slamming his body into it as Sigrid fell to the floor. Then it all happened in flashes. More orcs, more screaming, and then elves slaughtering the orcs. Kili’s elf bringing the dying dwarf back from the brink, and then finally, it simmered down. Fili felt as if he hadn’t taken a single breath during the whole fiasco, and now sat next to his resting brother, who was smiling stupidly in his sleep.

“Is he well?”

Fili turned his head up to find Sigrid standing above him, worry etched on her face. Believing his tongue would betray him once more, Fili resorted to nodding. Thankfully, the lovely girl found that acceptable and sighed in relief. 

“That is good. Here,” she offered him a small bowl, and he looked at the steaming bowl, and then back up at the lovely human who offered it with a smile. “You saved our lives. It’s the least I can do.”

He stared at her, trying to find the words for his gratitude for her thoughtfulness, for her selflessness, for her existence, and said, “I..I...I-I’m….” he cleared his throat, trying to hide the cracking in his voice as he tried to formulate words. “I’m Fili-wait,no! Ugh!”

The girl jumped, and Fili placed his crimson red face in his hands, groaning aloud, before mumbling in Khuzdul  _ “Why is this so hard?” _

Then he heard a lighting sound, that reminded him of silver bells during Yuletide, and he lifted his head to see Sigrid giggling. He Would find the sight breathtaking, had she not been laughing at his expense.

“I-I’m sorry!” she wheezed out. “I-I’ll take that as a yes, here you are.”

She placed the bowl in his hand, and he felt a small jolt as her fingers brushed his. He took the bowl, and offered her a smile. She returned it, before a call from her brother beckoned her away. Fili sighed, looking down into the bowl, before taking a sip.

 

4.

He choked as he was pulled back into the boat by the collar, and landed very ungracefully onto the soaked floor, staring up at the smoke polluted sky. He was quickly brought to a sitting position in front of Sigrid, and as always, he could not find words. But this time for an entirely different reason. She had lost her home, the people she grew up with, all of them burned before her very eyes. And her father and brother had yet to come home. It was devastating. He couldn’t even imagine… Erebor was never truly his home. Perhaps it was to the rest of the company, but the Blue Mountains where his home. Had it been taken away from him, well, he didn’t know what he’d do. Just as if now, he didn’t know what to say.

But thankfully, he didn’t need to. She didn’t even speak. She merely reached into the bag she brought aboard, and took out a blue scarf. She then proceeded to put it around him, not even looking him in the eyes as she wrapped it around him. 

“For the Mountain. I can’t imagine that it’s warm in there. This should at least help.”

He stared at her. She was sorrowful, yes, but there was so much strength in her grey eyes. And he found himself even more mesmerized with her.

“I...I- I’m-.”

“Fili? Yes, I’m pretty sure we cleared that up,” She quipped, a small smile gracing her heartbreakingly beautiful features. She finished, tugging the seams down a bit, and stepped down the boat, before throwing a smile at him. “Thank you, Fili.”

And like that, she took her sister’s hand and disappeared into the crowd. She was gone. And he only introduced himself. 

Yet later, when he sat on the boat, heading for Erebor, with everyone focusing on the upcoming mountain save for Kili, who gave him a knowing smile,he found himself feel less pitiful, and more worried.

“What’s with the stupid smile?”

“Oh, you know... Just something.”

Fili frowned. “Are You going to tell me what this ‘something’ is, or are you going to keep being an incriptic ass?”

Kili’s face turned sour. “Fine then, I guess you don’t want to hear my fantastically ingenious scheme.”

Fili found his nerves begin to rise. “And what,pray tell, is this ‘ingenious scheme?’”

“I’m calling it ‘Operation: Lakeside Starlight’.”

“....That is the stupidest operation name I’ve ever heard.”

Kili scowled. “You’re the  _ wazzock _ who decided to call Uncle and Bilbo’s courting scheme ‘Operation: Bagginshield’.”

“First of all, that was way more clever than Nori’s ‘Operation: Help Thorin Jump Bilbo’s Hobbit Hole’. Second of all, yours has starlight in its name. It’s going to involve you trying to lose your virginity to that red haired tree shagger.”

Kili flushed a deep crimson, conjuring the ugliest scowl he could, “Hey, just because I waited for my one, unlike  **some** people-.”

“Hey!”

“Doesn’t mean I’m going stop waiting now that I finally have. I want to make sure she’s ready, as well. No this scheme is something different. In fact,” He gave a cheeky grin. “I think it might benefit you as well.”

“Really? How could getting you laid possibly help me?”

Kili grinned from ear to ear. “ The ‘Lakeside’ part, of my operation.”

 

5.

It was the most ridiculous scheme ever conceived. Yet it had somehow worked. Kili was able to play with Tilda, and occasionally get some alone time with Tauriel, and somewhere in it, Fili had the found the courage to actually speak to Sigrid. After many puffs of Bilbo’s special blend coursed through his system, fogging up any nervousness, he finally was able to get more than two words out. And they were not the word’s “I’m” or “Fili”.

And what came after was almost dreamlike. They held full length conversations. They talked about everything, from their dreams of the future, to the stupidest things their sibling did. He discovered that her beauty was just as much internal as it was external.

He also became painfully aware of how youthful she was. Her views on his brother’s relationship with Tauriel was so innocent, so pure. Unaffected by the harsh reality that was politics. She held her views fiercely, and spoke with great passion.  Should she become her father’s heir, or even hold a seat in council, she would be a force to be reckoned with. In a matter of minutes, she had gotten him to promise to forgo centuries of traditions and marry his brother to an elf.

And he went and did perhaps the maddest act of all. He stole from the treasure halls.

It wasn’t anything that would truly be missed, just an armor cuff. It was small, but made purely of silver. Beneath the ruff and tear of years of neglect, he could tell it would be perfect.

So in the haunting hour, he stole away to the a broken down forge deep within the mountain. Until dawn, he quietly as possible slaved away on the project. He had to improvise on many of the needed tools, such as the mold, but by morning, as he etched the illustration of a shoreline waves onto the edge, he was sure that this was his finest work.

So when he and Kili stole away into the night, he made sure that they were secure in their pouch in his tunic pocket. He awaited the perfect moment to give it to her.

The night progressed, and Kili’s impression game escalated. 

“You have no right! No right to wake up a dragon!” Tilda pouted, balancing a strand of her hair above her mouth, much like her sister had but minutes ago.

“I have the only right!” Fili said, making his voice as raspy as he could.

“Says who?”

“Says me! King Broody McBrood, King of the Emotionally Constipated!”

In the background, Kili was cackling madly on the floor, as Tauriel and Sigrid snorted behind their hands. And then Kili bolted up. He then stage whispered,

“Fili! Thorin at Beorn’s! Thorin at Beorn's!”

Fili almost burst out in heretical laughter as he recalled Thorin’s drunken endeavors at the shapeshifter’s home. An idea popped into his head, and he grinned.

“Alright, but only if you play Bofur.”

“Gladly,” Kili said with a mock bow, before he hastily braided his hair into two pigtails.

Fili then adopted a slumped and angry posture, over exaggerating his glare. Kili waltzed over to Fili, making sure to exaggerate every skip in his step.

“Oh King Broody McBrood, why so distraught?”

“That  **bear,”** he spat out the words as if it was poison. “Has taken **my hobbit** from me!”

A small chuckle came from their companions, and Kili grinned. 

“Fear not, my king, for I have a plan!”

“Does it involve making a bear rug?”

“No, it does not. But have faith, and relax. Here,” he pantomimed a cup, and offered it to Fili. “This will help.”

Fili scowled, snatching the fake mug and pretending to chug it. Then, he made a very audible groan.

“Bofur, did you poison your king?!”

Kili smirked. “No, I just drugged you.”

Fili groaned again, before falling to the ground with a “Curse you, toy makeeeeerrrrr….”

He stayed there for a second, before he heard Kili cackle. 

“And when he finally came to, dear old Broody McBrood heard a song that only his ears could listen to.”

On cue, Fili spring to his feet, and looked around in mock amazement.

“What a wonderful sound! It's more beautiful than my own majestic voice!”

Everyone giggled, and Fili had a mad idea. He ran to Sigrid, who was still clutching her sides, and took her hand in his.

“Burglar, do you not hear that sound? We must dance to it!”

Sigrid looked at him in confusion, before realization dawned on her. She pursed her lips and shook her head.

“Ah, no . 'Fraid I can't do that, your Broodiness. I'm a Baggins. Baggins don't-wah!”

Fili smirked as he yanked her off her feet, quickly placing one hand on her waist and the other firmly grasped her hand as he lead the taller human in a fast line dance. Sigrid shrieked in laughter as he practically dragged her around, and he clicked his feet in a gallop and lead her in a tango of sorts. He then spun her out, and brought her back so that they were pressed together. 

He took in her pretty flushed face, and the strands of hair that fell around her face, and then took a deep breath as he lead them into a waltz and sang:

 

“ _ Theeeeere's an inn, there's an inn, there's a merry old inn _ __  
_ beneath an old grey hill, _ __  
_ And there they brew a beer so brown _ __  
_ That the Man in the Moon himself came down _ _  
_ __ one night to drink his fill.”

 

He twirled them around, and he heard Kili coaxing Tauriel into dancing with him, only to have Tilda drag them both out to dance with her. Sigrid laughed, and he lifted her up by the waist, making her squeal in laughter 

  
_ “The ostler has a tipsy cat _ __  
_ that plays a five-stringed fiddle; _ __  
_ And up and down he saws his bow _ __  
_ Now squeaking high, now purring low, _ _  
_ __ now sawing in the middle.”

 

Once he put her down, she grinned, taking the lead as she began to dance the woman’s part to an old Rohan jig. He followed suit, and soon they were twirling about each other, laughing till they were red in the face.

  
_ “So the cat on the fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle, _ __  
_ a jig that would wake the dead: _ __  
_ He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune, _ __  
_ While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon: _ _  
_ __ ‘It’s after three!’ he said.”

 

His eyes widened as she accidently tripped on her skirts, and began to fall backwards. He managed his hands about her waist, and caught her in a sort of dip. Both of their faces were mere inches apart, and Fili felt his heart skip a bit as she stared directly into his eyes. Their breaths mingled, and for a moment, as he saw the grey of her eyes shine in the moonlight, he felt it was time.

“So, did he really do that?”

It took him a moment to process that she was talking, and then once her question reached him, he asked, “Huh?”

“You’re uncle. Did he really become intoxicated and sang and danced with Master Bilbo?”

“Oh! Oh yes, he did. It was quite entertaining. “ He was going to leave out the fact that Thorin had then continued to catch Bilbo and everyone by surprise and kissed the hobbit. As much as he would like to follow his example, he had something to do before he could. 

“S-Sigrid, I-.”

“Psst!  _ Aval lanlar! _ Look here.”

Fili was going to murder Kili. That is until he saw what he was drawing their attention to. Tilda was nodding off in Tauriel’s arms, and he begrudgingly let Sigrid go to her sister.

He sighed as he took out the small pouch,and looked at the beads. It was hopeless. He just missed his opportunity. 

“Sig…? When...When are we gonna...be able to play...with Fi and Ki….When it's light outside….?”

Fili looked up at Tilda’s sleeping form, and reality came back to hit him like a war hammer. They were at war. A war that could kill anyone of them. And here he was, already trying to make promises that could easily be broken tomorrow. What a fool he was. How could he even  **think** to promise-.

“Someday soon, Tilda.”

He looked at his brother, who patted the little human’s head, and he was shocked. How could he promise that? He didn't know if that someday could come. Yet when he saw Sigrid smile down at him, he felt something inside him click. 

He took a deep breath, clutching the silver in his hand as he marched over to her. She didn't see him, which gave him time to figure out what he was going to say. He could feel the sonnets begin to form in his mind, and he scrambled to find the right words as he drew nearer.

He tugged at her hand. She looked down at him, as if to ask what he was doing, but he payed no mind as he placed the small bead he. He closed her hand with his own. He looked up at her beautiful eyes, trying to find the right words to describe them. To describe her. To describe the love that was blossoming within himself for her. But it didn't come out. It stopped in his throat. But in a small, crazy moment he realized he was through trying to put his feelings into words. So he just smiled, allowing all his affection to pour into that small gesture, as he closed her hands with his.

“Someday soon,” he whispered staring into those orbs of storm one last time, before turning his heel and running to his brother.

They were of two different races, and his Uncle shot an arrow at her Father. He was responsible for her home burning. There were a million different reasons for why he shouldn't hope that “someday” would come. But for a lass like Sigrid, he'd say damn it all. If only for the chance of a day where he could see his bead in her hair. To finally have a someday where he could tell her she was his One.

 

+1

He soaked up the warmness of the sun as he sat in the garden. The sound of his sharpening tool against the steel of his blade calmed the knowing of the darkness inside him. The darkness craved battle, and would only be subdued by such an act as preparing for one. Yet he had no intention to. He saw far too much war, and he'd be damned if he had to see anymore. Not if he could help it.

' **_Do not lie. You lust for battle.’_ **

He paused in his task. That voice sounded too much like his father. He shook his head, and continued.

**_'You miss the satisfaction of the death of an enemy. By your blade, by your hand. You miss war.’_ **

'That is ridiculous. You know nothing of me.’

**_'You fool yourself, boy. Perhaps you do not even know yourself. War is a part of you. It's always been a part. In this life. In your future lives. It was a part of you in your past-.’_ **

'Begone, foul darkness! Your madness will not prevail-’

“My Lord.”

The sword slipped, and nicked the skin of his palm. He hissed out, clutching the bleeding wound as he felt the red liquid seep through his fingers.

“My lord, are you alright?”

He looked up at the Warden, and offered a reassuring smile. “Tis only a flesh wound, Warden. Nothing serious. Now, why are you here?”

The Warden looked nervous, before coughing. “There is a lady who wishes to speak with the Ste-.”

“Oh for the love of the Valar!” A new voice interrupted, as fierce as the wind itself, and a woman ran into the gardens, her white gown flowing behind her.

“My Lord, if it is not too bold, I would wish for you to tell the Warden that I am well enough to fight! I have seen war, and I will not sit idly by until I have died in it!”

For a second, he felt something strange as he looked at the wild woman. Her  lovely face was etched in sorrow, and at first, he could not help but feel pity. But as he looked into her wild blue eyes, he felt a sense of deja vu. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a pair of grey eyes flashed in his mind. Eyes he could never recall seeing before. Yet, they seemed so familiar. So alike the blue ones of the woman in front of him.They looked nothing alike, but they both carried a storm within them. 

“-If you could least allow my window to face eastward, then I would be-Lord Steward, are you listening?”

He was snapped out of his musing as those stormy blue eyes began to light up in fury, and now the storm turned into a tempest. He should apologise, or at least offer a solution to her endeavor, but another voice rang through his head. A voice that sounded too much like his brother. And also too much like that of a distant memory.

_ 'Do not mess it up this time, brother.’ _

He gulped as the maiden continued to glare daggers into him.  Yet in her fury, he found her beauty. Beauty that made him feel the odd sensation of a distant memory once more. The words rang through his head, and though he couldn't find the meaning behind them, they stuck with him. 

“Forgive me, my lady. For I too am a prisoner to the Halls of Healing. I can not offer you battle. But should it be a view of the east you desire, that I can offer, as well as my company in these times where our hopes lie east.”

The woman blinked at him, her eyes calming in their rage, only to be replaced by sorrow.

“What comfort could you possibly find in the company of a failed shieldmaiden of Rohan, my lord?”

A shieldmaiden? Then that could only mean she was the niece of the fallen King Thèoden. And with that knowledge, he felt even more pity for her. As well as the odd need to do right by her.

“Do you truly want my honest response?”

She nodded, slowly like a child, and he was struck by her youthfulness, as well as the sense of a long past memory floating to the surface of his mind. A beautiful young maiden who had lost nearly everything, yet remained fierce and driven in her sadness. Why did this seem so familiar?

_ 'You didn't tell her last time, and you both suffered for it. This is your last chance, brother. Make it count.’ _

“Then, Èowyn of Rohan, I say to you that you are beautiful.”

**Author's Note:**

> Boom! Plot twist!  
> To be honest, that last part was inspired by a post I saw in tumblr when I first started getting into this ship. It kinda solidified me into this ship, considering I have been shipping Èowyn and Farmir since I was six. (Yes, I've literaly been in this fandom for that long. Long befor fandoms were even a thing. ) Long story short, it was this head cannon drawing parrallels between the four characters, and yada yada yada, I really wish I could find it, link it and give it credit, but I can't seem to find it! So,if you were the one that posted it, I'm sorry, I can't give you the proper credit, but the ending was entirely thanks to that post. Thank you for being my muse. :3  
> For those of you who don't give a crap. Thank you so much for reading, and please do comment and or Kudo.  
> Thank you all! I love you all! :3


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